Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
There is one way to describe the first aural sensation in which the ears hear the musical tones of Sunjay Brayne, one tiny word in which holds a myriad of thoughts, a single utterance in which musical confusion is dispelled and waved away like a fine mist is dispelled by the action of a fan, it is just simply marvellous.
It is easy to see the comparisons that have been laid at the feet of Sunjay in respect to his deftness on guitar and presentation of songs with the great Ralph McTell. There is more though to Sunjay than Mr. McTell seemed to offer at times. The splendour in which both musicians capture the moment is unequivocally brilliant, yet for a more modern audience, perhaps at times an audience that has grown so fast in the last 40 years, Sunjay is nothing short of the being hailed a musician’s musician.
Sunjay Brayne’s third album, titled Sunjay, looks at some of the great songs of the last 40 or so years and makes them glow like a distant fire in the distance in which the heat can be felt from a lengthy distance. Songs such as the magnificent Sailing To Philadelphia, You Don’t Mess Around With Jim, London Road and the stunning A Folk Singer Earns Every Dime are tracks of delights but it is perhaps with a slight astonishment that the musician would cover one of the true greats of the last half century with such verve and guile.
It takes a brave musician to take on a true and defining classic. It can become either a sure fire moment of beauty as it transcends the decades between original recording and the time the musician and the audience finds themselves in, or it can become a millstone, dragging around the pomposity of youth in which some might find it hard to recover properly from.
To take on the song No Regrets, sung with so much passion and fundamental heartache by both the fabulous Tom Rush and later by the extraordinary voice that inhabited the soul of Scott Walker, could arguably be seen as an act of remarkable folly. However, whilst not reaching the extreme high of undoubted sentimentality and crushing relationship cynicism in which Scott Walker proved so adept and supremely focused upon, what Sunjay brings to the cover table is a song that at least shines in the direct comparison that will undoubtedly bring the thought of single-minded 21st romantic centre.
If ever you wanted to give your ears a reason to be cheerful, in which to revel in delight as perhaps Ian Dury would have proclaimed, then to hear Sunjay Brayne’s self-titled album is one that they will forever be thankful for; they might never let you down again and continue to hold parties in your honour.
Ian D. Hall